Shut Up
by Gabi217
Summary: Rated R for safety, lives up to it soon. Narcissa Malfoy and Albus Dumbledore made a plan, convincing the Weasley Family to let Ginevra Weasley live in a house with Draco Malfoy. What happens when a bond is formed, and someone's bets are right?
1. Default Chapter

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Title: Shut Up

Disclaimer : Nope, nothing but plot belongs to me!

* * *

"No _way,_" she growled. No, there was no way in fuck she was going to do this. She'd gotten a letter in the mail from the Ministry and her father, ordering her to move into a large Muggle house far out in the country, away from civilization, with _Draco Malfoy._

"There's no fucking way in _hell_ I'm going to share a fucking house with her. Like she said, _no way."_

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled for just a second, and Ginny thought she saw a twinge of smile at his lips. Her brow creased, and she fell back into her chair.

"I'm dreadfully sorry you two, but the decision has been made. You're to move in together tonight. We currently have your things being packed at this very moment." Her face smoothed in awe.

"Bloody _hell_! This really is final, isn't it! Well, my brother will have something to say about this, he will. He'll find a way around this, all six of them will. There's no way in hell I'm going to live with _him_," she said matter-of-factly, glaring hard at Draco. Behind their stares Dumbledore smiled. Narcissa had been right.

"God, you got that right! I'd rather get beat up by those bloody twits than stay in a house with _her. _My mother will have something to say! Did you talk to _her_? Bet you didn't. She'd never approve of this; no, not on my grave she would," he sneered back, still staring hard at Ginny. The silence was menacing, and Dumbledore had had enough of their repeated reasons. He cleared his throat, gaining him the attention of both figures across from him. He leaned across his desk, placing his hands firmly in the center.

"Both of you, listen here. You're to live in that house until we say. It's already been permitted by _both_ your families, and I do think it's time for you both to straighten up about this just a tad instead of acting like toddlers. You're to move in tonight, until further notice. Case dismissed," he muttered, and waved them away. They stood up, fists clenched; mouths open.

"But, but-" they spluttered.

"No 'buts'!" Dumbledore practically roared. They'd been going about like this all day, and it was getting rather annoying. "If you aren't in that house by 12 tonight, you're both in trouble, understood?"

They nodded sheepishly, mumbling, "Yes, Headmaster." He nodded, and smiled, glint returning.

"Good. You may go now."

* * *

"Fuck!" Ginny muttered, groping around her hand bag for her wand. "I can't bloody believe they're _doing_ this to me!" 

Draco snorted from the other side of the staircase. "To _you?_ Hell, this is my worst nightmare! Living with a fucking Weasley. Pfftt! It's downright disgusting!"

Ginny turned on him with narrowed brown eyes.

"You shut your trap, Malfuck." He smirked.

"Whatever, Weasel. I'm not going to put up with your shitty names right now. I have more important things to tend to before I'm put to my death," he said, and with a loud crack he disappeared. Ginny rolled her eyes and retrieved her wand from the depths of her purse, holding it up triumphantly.

"I need a drink," she scowled, and with a loud crack she was gone. From inside his office, Dumbledore could only grin wickedly to himself. The trap was set.

* * *

He awoke to the sound of slurred curse words and the loud slam of the front door. Their house was small but big on the inside, several bedrooms upstairs and two bathrooms; a living room and a dining area and a den, plus the kitchen and the sun room, and a sizeable pool in the back. But even though Draco found the whole thing very comfy, there was only one thing that made it horrible. Ginevra Weasley. 

That's who he was assuming it was when he rolled in his sleep, also the loud rain. He got up out of bed and walked down the hallway, coming to the top landing on the steps. Looking down he watched her watch the steps, feet heavy and trying hard to make right movements. Her hand gripped the railing tightly and her feet trudged up the steps, coming to the second stair. A smile twitched at his lips. Being 22 and 6'2", he towered over her. But he knew something that she didn't, and something he would never, _ever_, tell anyone. A long time ago, around 6th year, he'd taken an attraction to her. The way she idly brushed off his insults and swung her hips when she walked, the way she flipped her hair only over her right shoulder and the way her chocolate brown eyes glowed with an unknown happiness. About the end of 7th year, seeing her and her luscious curves and shining red locks for the last time, he came to an angry conclusion. He was _infatuated _with her. But he'd never, _ever _let her know that.

But despite his best efforts, he stayed and watched her stumble. She was only on the second step, her feet stepping up and stepping back time and time again. She finally was bringing her left foot up to meet her right when she dropped her hand bag and leant down to pick it up, losing her balance and falling back with a loud crash onto the landing. Sprawled out in a mess of red curls and pale, flailing limbs she laid there, and whimpered just slightly. Her hand reached back to touch her head, which she had managed to smack into the side table on her way down, and she let out a small whine. He tsk-ed her quietly, but took pity on her as she began to wail.

"Goddamnit, stupid fucking heels, stupid fucking house, stupid fucking Malfoy always making my life a living hell…WHY _ME_!" she shrieked through sobs, other hand reaching down to touch her ankle that she'd landed on. "Ouch…" she whined, choking on her tears. He shook his head and rolled his eyes, walking down the steps as quietly as he could. She looked up at him through blurry eyes, his tall lean figure that she'd always favored hazy around the edges. Her bottom lip was stuck out and quivering, her eyes wide and full of tears. He knelt down beside her, unfolding her aching limbs, shaking his head.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. Didn't your mother ever teach you about gravity? Poor Weasel. Come on then, get up, I can't do this by myself," he spoke, his voice soft and a lullaby to her. She looked up at him again, hand on his shoulder, and said, "Why are you being so nice to me, Malfoy?"

He rolled his eyes, shaking his head.

"You fell down the stairs, Weasley. I'm only helping you up because I don't want to get a call from St. Mungo's saying you tripped and busted a limb and didn't want to wake me. Let's just get up, and get you to bed."

She sniffled softly as she clutched his shoulder again, hand reaching back to push up off the floor. She wobbled a bit and he put out a hand on her waist to steady her, her body folded and barely touching his. He heard her sharp intake of breath, but when she was standing straight but leaning on him, she almost smiled.

"Oh, I see. I love you too, Draco," she slurred. But she laughed, hiccupped, and then as if she'd just told him some big secret, she slapped her palm over her mouth. He only barely listened, shaking his head again and sighing. She took a wobbling step forward, and he knew that if they kept this pace they'd be trying to get up these steps all night.

"Alright, Gin, up we go," he murmured, reaching down and pulling her legs up. She gave a small squeak and closed her eyes, snuggling into his shirt. Outside, the rain poured hard, and he noticed with a grimace she was soaked. Her face was flushed and her breathing was hot, her body curled and her eyes were red. Without warning she reached up and sneezed, once, twice, three times, each one emphasized by a tiny squeak at the end. Resting her on the 4th step he reached down and touched her forehead, burning beneath his palm. Sighing, he scooped her back up and started up the stairs again.

"Oh, great. First night in the fucking house, and the Weasel's drunk and fucking sick. God, can this get any worse? Can it?!" he grumbled to himself, but she heard. She quivered in his arms, sniffling again. All of a sudden, the dam was let loose and she was crying all over the place.

"Ginny, really, it's not your - Ginny, listen - stop blubbering for just a - oh, to hell with it. It's not your fault, Weasley," he muttered, trying to make her feel better. Coming to the top landing and going to her assigned bedroom, he kicked open the door, crossing the threshold and kicking it shut. Flipping on the light switch next to the door, he crossed the room and dropped her unceremoniously onto the bed. She looked up at him with wide red eyes before they shut, and she was out.

"Stupid fucking Weasley," he muttered under his breath, rummaging around in her drawers for a pair of pajamas. Picking the first things he saw, a white t shirt and some blue flannel pajama bottoms, he closed his eyes and set to work. Pulling off her soaked tank top and blue jeans, he stepped back to grab the shirt, turning toward her body. Beneath him, in almost translucent under things and creamy white skin, was Ginny Weasley. He remembered with a soft chuckle as he dressed her the first time he'd kissed her, just to see what it was like. She'd repeatedly punched him in the stomach and groin, telling him to sod off and if he ever did that again she'd kill him. He only shook his head and pulled back the covers, laying her beneath them.

"Too bad you don't know, Ginny," he murmured, sitting on the edge of the bed. He sighed and shook his head, leaning down to pull up the covers. Ginny, who was trying hard to turn restlessly in her sleep, lifted a white arm and draped it around his neck, pulling him down hard and wrapping her arms all the way around him. He only watched her sleeping face for any sign of reaction, a slight smile pulling at the pinkness. He sighed again for what seemed the hundredth time that night, and closed his eyes, lying atop the covers and wrapped in her arms, unable to escape.

* * *

She woke up with a fever, but there was heat from somewhere else too. Turning her head, just so, she realized what it was. Her arm was hooked around his neck, his hand resting gently on her stomach. His face was troubled, as if he was making a bad decision. Realization dawned on her along with pain as she remembered what had happened. But she figured, hoping to God it would work, that she could deny it. So she did the simplest thing on her mind. She simply screamed. 

"AAAAIIIIEEEE! Oh my GOD Draco Malfoy get the _fuck_ out of my bed!" she shrieked, unhooking her arm and pushing him away. He rolled away, unhesitant, and stood before the bed, groggy and face flushed with anger.

"Well _Weasley, _I wouldn't even _be_ here, if it hadn't been for your fucking sick self falling down the stairs last night and making me carry you _up _here, and not let me _leave!" _he growled. She gasped, and sat upright.

"Get out of my _room!_" she shrieked. "If I _ever, EVER _catch you in my room without me inviting you, I will seriously hurt you! Understood!?" she yelled, and he returned with a reply just as loud.

"Of COURSE it's understood you crazy bint! I wouldn't even have _been_ here if not for your drunken ass! So just shut it and forget about it and let me live my own goddamn life!" with that he spun around quickly and pulled open her door, slamming it hard. The glass in the window panes rattled and her face was drawn in horror as she heard him stomp down the hall and slam his own door open and shut. With a loud yell of frustration, the house was quiet.

* * *

He awoke sometime around 12, in a horrid mood and hunger invading his body. He groaned and got up, running a hand through his mussed blonde hair, that kept falling into his eyes. 

As he walked down the hall, music was playing. Ginny's door was wide open, and she was sitting on the edge of her bed, swathed in a big blue bathrobe, wet hair down. He stopped, by accident, and she looked up. With a nasty face and a snarl of, "Go away," she slammed the door hard in his face.

"Fuck off, Weasel," he yelled back to her door. Shaking his head and rubbing his eyes he stomped down the steps, stopping at the counter that divided the living room and the kitchen. Opening a cabinet he'd stocked up himself, he pulled out a box of Lucky Charms, a Muggle cereal he couldn't help but love. Taking out a bowl and spoon he poured himself some, checking his daily drop of the Daily Prophet while munching. Upstairs the music stopped and a door opened, and without him even noticing, she was standing right in front of him, digging in her own cabinet for a box of Cocoa Pebbles. Settling herself idly on a bar stool across from him, she poured her cereal, eating and reading the back of the box. She sniffled idly, her nose was runny. Suddenly, she sneezed.

"Gazunheit," he murmured. (**A/N: **Sorry, I bet I didn't spell it right.) She nodded.

"Thanks," she replied, still looking at her box. She looked up at him as he continued reading his paper, and blushed. She ducked her head sheepishly as he stood up with his empty bowl, setting it in the sink and folding his paper. Without a word he ran his hand through his hair and began to stalk up the steps.

"Aren't you going to wash that?" she asked, disbelieving. He rolled his eyes and spun around on the step he was on, ducking his head to look at her across the room.

"Obviously not, Weasley," he said, annoyed. She grunted in response.

"You should," she called back quietly. He spun around, face contorted in irritation.

"And why, would I do that, Weasel?" She was silent. "Serves her right," he muttered beneath his breath. He was about to take another step when he heard,

"Because you're a conceited bastard," she snorted. A scowl became etched on his face.

"Sticks and stones, Weasley," he snarled. But still, he was angry at her for calling him a bastard.

"Sticks and stones my ass, Malfoy. Come down here and wash this damn dish before I throw it at you."

He barely sniggered. "Make me," he taunted. She rolled her eyes and ate another spoonful.

"I don't make trash, Malfoy, I burn it." Damn. She'd done it.

"If anyone's trash around here, Weasel, it's you."

"God, Malfoy, that's getting old. Sing me a new one, how bout it." His scowl grew deeper.

"I'll sing any one I want, thanks," he snarled. She gave a resigned sigh.

"Look. We could be here for a while. Just wash the damn dish and get it over with, save us both the trouble," she said, bored. He frowned.

"Fine. If it means so much to you, I'll wash the damn dish. Bloody _hell_," he muttered, and approached the sink. Taking the bowl and spoon in his hand, be stood before the sink, silently. A few spoonfuls later, Ginny spun around with her own empty dish.

"What?" she asked, looking from his puzzled face to the empty sink, to the bowl and spoon in his hands. A malicious grin crawled on her face. She rose her eyebrows for a millisecond, and tried not to laugh.

"Don't you look at me like that, Weasley. Just because…" he trailed off.

"Just because what, Draco?" she asked, tilting her head to the side in an innocent fashion, but her grin lingered. He scowled again.

"Just show me how to wash the damn dish and lets get this over with. I haven't got all day," he muttered. She laughed, and shooed him over a few steps.

"Right then. Rinse out the bowl. No, Malfoy, fill it with water you twit. Now, take the sponge, put a tad bit - no, I said a _tad, _not a _puddle _- on the sponge. Now, squeeze the sponge and just scrub the bowl and spoon. Now, put down your sponge, and rinse the bowl and spoon off. And, voila, you're done!"

He almost smiled and spun the dish in his hands, looking into his own face.

"See, knew I could do it," he grinned. Her smile fell off her face as her mouth fell open.

"You did not! Why, you - you - you insufferable git you! You're such a prat, Malfoy," she scowled, and marched up to her room. He only shook his head and laughed, drying the dish and restacking it in the cabinet.

* * *

Alright. Uhm, this one is a new fic so I don't know how it's going to come out, lol. It might be crazy, it might actually be _good, _but whatever it is I wish you guys would review lots! LoL I'm about to set a goal for you on the next chap just 'cause you guys are good readers and crazy to boot! LoL well, review!


	2. Chapter Two

**Title :** Shut Up

Disclaimer : Don't own anything but plot!

* * *

He left, that morning after breakfast, for work; leaving a brief, emotionless note that said when he'd be back and gave strict orders _Not to do anything stupid and don't answer his post. _She only snorted and wadded it up, tossing it tastelessly into the wastebasket at her desk. Swinging her legs around to the other side of the workspace, she picked up some parchment to owl the Ladies. Tonight would be a good night, she was sure. Or at least, she was sure then.

* * *

He came back around 8 to see her curled up on his favorite couch, book in hand and bowl of dry cereal resting in her lap. She looked up in an off-motion, waggling her fingers in greeting as a dog would with its tail. He gave a curt nod and started toward the kitchen, having smelt something in the air.

She'd made dinner, of course. A small pot roast and some grilled vegetables with a small side of potato soup, and a light, flaky apple pie for desert. He licked his lips slowly, before dropping his bag and scooting into one of the chairs. With a flick and swish of his wand, his plate was piled in a manly way and he was eating; gracefully yet with a strained hunger. She stopped at the doorway, laughing quietly and waiting until he gave some sort of sign that it was safe to pass.

She sat down, hesitantly, he noticed; and took small bites from her dinner. He shook his head; silly Weasel. No wonder she was a stick, the poor thing never ate!

About a half an hour had passed before he scooted his chair back, hands connected behind his head and eyes half closed. He'd cleaned his plate in one sitting, and never even had to loosen his belt. She'd eaten daintily and was now cleaning the table, each dish emptying itself into a container and then cleaning itself and putting itself away. She slid out silently, and he didn't even notice she was gone until she was half way up the steps. Slipping out of his own chair, he changed into his swim trunks and walked out the back patio; taking out his frustration on the water around him.

* * *

When she came down, he was gone from the house. The magical floodlights on the back porch were on, though; hinting for her to look outside. She slid the door to the side, standing in the doorway and searching the yard.

She found him in the pool; immediately transfixed at the way his muscles rippled slowly and jerked in time to his movements as his laps became faster. He plummeted and stroked toward the other side, and in half a minute he was there and flipping, pushing off the opposite wall and heading in her direction.

Her mouth was open, much on its own accord as he slipped up the steps, shaking water and hair out of his eyes and grabbing his towel, dabbing his face with it. She was still standing in the doorway, eyes still stuck on the muscles that moved when he did. Out of nowhere, she felt his cold, wet fingers touch her chin, pushing her mouth closed. His eyes were clouded, as if he were preoccupied, thinking; but that same trademark smirk lingered on his lips.

"'s not polite to stare, Red," he leered softly. She only snorted in a very unladylike way, and spun on her heel, stalking back through the house.

He watched her as she walked. Black leather mini skirt tonight, a white, tight t-shirt that read, "If You Don't Rock, You Ain't Real," and black leather jacket. With a smirk he noticed she was wearing white and red knee-high socks, and high-heeled black and white converse. In a way, though, she was sexy. He rose a brow at the instrument in her right hand; a dark blue, black and white guitar. She grinned as she slipped a chain wallet into her pocket, raising her own eyebrow at her instrument.

"It's called a guitar, Malfoy. Muggles and Wizards alike use them. I have a show tonight," she muttered, checking the studded cuff watch on her wrist. He heard her murmur, "Or at least I think."

"Oh?" he said, still eyeing the guitar. She was quiet for a moment, contemplating something.

"Yes, as a matter of fact. Hmm. Uhm, Malfoy - uh - Draco, do you want to - uhm - come and see me play tonight? It's in Diagon Alley, so you won't have to worry about Muggles and stuff and, I'm babbling again aren't I?" she said, murmuring the last part. He grinned. After all, he didn't have anything to do tonight, and Blaise wouldn't be back to her flat until 2. He shrugged and snapped his fingers, already dressed.

"Right then. Let's get this show on the road, hmm?" he said, motioning to her guitar. She grinned back and grabbed his hand, Apparating them to Diagon Alley.

He opened his eyes slowly, to be greeted by a light darkness and loud music, screams and calls across the crowded streets. The place was packed and he smiled; he hadn't seen Diagon Alley at night in a long time. No, not since -

"Draco?"

Ginny's voice protruded into his thoughts. He looked up, and around him; not seeing her flaming red hair or petite figure anywhere. He began to turn to look for her, when he felt a hand in his, tugging him along. His weight was thrown, and he found himself leaning on the redhead herself, her cheeks aflame.

"Right. This way," she murmured, pulling him along by his hand. They took a few turns, down a few empty streets and down a few packed alleyways before they came to a secluded one, where a line of people stood restlessly against the brick walls as they waited to gain entrance. Ginny pulled him to the front of the line, and nodded.

"Hey, Tam. He's with me," she said, directing the comment to the burly bodyguard and nodding at Draco. He nodded back, and allowed himself more out of relief to be pulled into the door.

They were in the vestibule before Ginny started to talk.

"That was Tam. He's one of the bouncers for this place," she said, and motioned to a sign he hadn't seen before. It was in neon red and a neon black color, the florescent colors flashing in his eyes. The sign said, "Scarlet's" in those colors, and at the end in bright green there was a skull and cross bones, the normal sign for poison. He grinned.

"Scarlet. Sounds a lot like you, Red. But who'd want to name a place such a beautiful name, after such an ugly creature?" he scoffed. A joke. She spun around, pinning him to the wall with her thick black-looking eyes.

"Well, I can give you points for getting the origin right. It was named after me. But I'm not ugly, you see, and if anyone else hears you say that about me, they'll slap you silly. Understand?"

He nodded. Good. Rules. They needed some of those.

"Right. Whatever. Let's just go, alright?" he said, waving absently toward the next door. She lost her anger and grinned, pulling it open to reveal a large dance floor, packed with dancing people in half-articles of clothing, each holding a neon green glow stick. There were two bars, one on either side of the dance floor. The two other ends were filled with tables and booths, and then a stage. He snapped his mouth shut. Who made this place?

"Colin Creevey," she said, answering his unspoken question. "He and his brother Dennis started it up about a year after graduation. He told me he never wanted to forget me, and he wanted everyone to know who I was, so he named it after me. People filled it up immediately, and it's been doing pretty well on its own since then," she grinned. She tugged him along inside, spinning a half circle.

"My little place. Feels good to have something of your own every once in awhile, doesn't it? Oh, I suppose you don't. But it is a good feeling. Can I get you something to drink?" she asked, running words together. He wondered if it was the sugar that flowed in her blood always, or just the atmosphere of the bar that was doing this to her. But as he looked her up and down, she seemed much sexier than before. He swallowed hard and nodded his head, following her to the East bar.

"Den! Dennis? Dennis Creevey, get your scrawny ass down here!" she half-yelled, half-laughed down the glass bar as she plopped herself into a stool. A blonde, lean fellow popped up from below the counter, two glasses in hand.

"Scar! Long time no see, where you been? Out following that James fellow to Europe again?" he grinned, and Ginny blushed, casting a side glance to Draco who raised a questioning, amused eyebrow. She cleared her throat.

"Erm… no. I've been around, though. I was in here the other night, I think, but you weren't on duty and Tam must've not passed along my message. Anyway, you gonna stand here and jab at me all day, or are you gonna get me something to drink?" She laughed, pointing to their glasses. He rolled his eyes and grabbed her glass, then grabbed the other and looked up, almost stumbling into a case of glass bottles in his shock.

"M-Malfoy. Draco Malfoy? Damnit Gin, I thought we had a deal! I don't date Ravenclaws, you don't date Slytherins. Remember?" he said, hands shaking as he gained his composure.

"I'm not dating him, Dennis. And that was such a long time ago, I think I've forgotten," she smiled, weakly. Draco cast a questionable glance in her direction, and she ignored it. "I swear I'm not dating a Slytherin," she assured him. From a door behind Dennis, another similar-looking blonde man popped up, anger drawn across his face.

"Who's dating who?" he asked, obviously having missed the first half of the conversation.

"I am _not_ dating Draco!"__

"She is _not _dating me!"

They cried in unison, Ginny slamming her glass down to make her point.

Dennis shrugged. The blonde man turned around from where he had been standing all along, toward the opposite bar with his back toward them. He whirled around and grinned, coming out to greet and hug her.

"Ginny! I knew I heard your temper somewhere," he laughed. She shook her head and hugged him back, pecking his cheek.

"Oh God, is it really that bad? See, this never would've happened if Dennis over here would've gotten me a drink instead of gabbing," she joked, and then got serious. "But really, though. I really do want a drink. Now," she whined. Colin laughed and got behind the counter again, picking up their glasses.

"What would the blonde like?" he asked, looking up at the two of them. He narrowed his eyes slightly at Draco, but didn't say anything.

"Can I have some Jagermeister?" he asked, a loud but polite question with a hint of venom in it. Colin nodded, and turned to Ginny.

"And for the girl?" he smiled. Ginny tapped her glass, absently, chin in her hand.

"Raspberry vodka. And _ice _this time Dennis, not just the hot stuff. Oh, and split a cherry and stick it in the bottom of the straw. I love it when you do that," she giggled. He nodded winked, then disappeared. Ginny half turned, and looked at Draco.

"Well, I haven't heard too much from you tonight. What's with the silence?" she asked, flicking him in the arm. He grinned, and tapped his fingers on the countertop.

"Oh, nothing. Just curious, is all. Is this what you do all night? Sit around and talk to your little buddies and not have any fun at all?"

She laughed. When he said 'little buddies', it made her want to giggle uncontrollably.

"No, this actually isn't what I do all night. I have a show in about half an hour, if I even play, enough time for us to get a drink and go to my back room; and enough time for me to get ready and find you a seat. Then I just hang around all night. You have any plans after 1?" she asked, the question so soft the almost had to strain his ears to hear it. His eyebrow cocked itself in inquiry, and she blushed and turned her head.

"Not like _that_, you idiot. I was just wondering. Because, you know, we could be in that house for a long time, and I just wanted to show you something, I guess," she sighed.

Draco weighed his options in his mind. Go somewhere and spend the rest of his night with Ginny, or go to Muggle London and 'visit' Blaise like he did almost every other night her husband was away…

He nearly choked. _Damn Blaise. _Her husband was supposed to be leaving for Europe tonight, but as he looked up he saw her, being lead across the dance floor by a tall, blonde man. One that didn't look anything like him, or her husband. What was this chit up to? She spun her head, craning her neck to see him. And then she winked, smirked, and continued to let herself be lead away into some dark corner with a man he'd never seen before. Was she trying to make him jealous?

Beside him, unnoticed, Ginny's face turned ashen. There was James, walking across the crowd with a raven headed girl in tow. She turned and looked at them, before turning again and following him closely. Ginny stiffened, and tried to grab Draco's attention. She needed to get out of this room.

"Draco?"

God, she does this every time, he snarled in his head. _Always breaking my thoughts._

He spun on his stool.

"What?" he growled, impatience in his voice. Her eyes grew wide, slightly, and she sat back in her stool, staring at him.

"God, nothing. Never mind," she muttered, and as he spun to get his drink he heard her mutter, "Touchy," under her breath. Colin laughed from across the bar and chucked her under her chin, grinning with admiration.

"I thought you were gay?" he blurted out. Ginny's stricken face turned, and a flash of pain flitted across Colin's face.

"Yeah, so," Colin said, trying to act casual. But Ginny had already seen the damage done. _Nobody_ mentioned Colin's sexuality in his own bar. It was practically an unspoken rule.

"Yeah, so, that means you can't touch girls. Right?" Draco asked.

Colin's face screwed up first in anger, then in curiosity.

"It doesn't mean I can't _touch_ them. It just means that I go for guys more. Like, I can talk and flirt and do whatever with girls, but guys are more my type. Why?" he said, eyes narrowed the whole time. His gaze passed to Ginny, who shrank back in horror at the anger he was showing.

"I was just wondering. Because you're touching Ginny and all, and I didn't know if you were an item, or if you were just -" he began.

"You, just listen. I don't know what Scar was all going on about by bringing you here. But what does go on and happens here is none of your business, alright? I love Ginny like my sister, or some very close other family member, and if I wasn't for guys I probably would've married her. And that sets her off limits to you too, because I don't see where Slytherin scum like you waltzes into _my bar _and begins to go on about _my_ sexuality. So you just shut your mouth and keep your hands off my girl," he growled. He leant back, grabbing the bottle of raspberry vodka off the opposite bar and refilling Ginny's glass. He then turned his back, gave a nod and a slight smile to Ginny, and walked back into the back room from whence he'd came.

When he was gone, Ginny gave a great sigh and grabbed her guitar and drink.

"Well, that was messy," she said, summing it all up and nodding her head in the direction of a hallway near the stairs.

"Touchy," he said, grinning. Ginny concealed a laugh and shook her head, getting up and pushing through the crowd. Draco lingered at the bar, staring into his drink, before Ginny backtracked and grasped her hand firmly in his.

"Come on, I haven't got all day," she muttered. He laughed and let her lead him, through the thick crowds and down a narrow passage way. They came to a steel door, and Ginny knocked 6 times on it, scratched her middle finger nail in a circle around the knob, and muttered something beneath her breath. Then she grinned and the door opened, and she pulled Draco in so fast he almost spilled his drink.

"Damnit woman, be careful," he muttered. She laughed and gently tossed her guitar onto a bed to the left, and set her drink down on the clear glass coffee table. She fell backwards onto a couch, where he saw clothing was draped across it. Someone's underwear ( he hoped it was hers ) was shoved beneath a couch cushion, a man's black t-shirt tossed carelessly over one arm. Someone's pants were in a crumpled pile at the foot of the couch, and one of her own t-shirts was crammed into the side. He smirked and sat down on the edge, hand resting unconsciously on her stomach.

"What are you, a groupie?" he laughed. She rolled her eyes.

"What are you talking about?"

"Who have you slept with?" he asked, ignoring her question but answering with his own. Her face pinkened, slightly, and she rolled over toward the couch cushions.

She mumbled something. He quirked his ears, and peered over her shoulder to find her eyes closed.

"What?"

"I _said,_ 'James.' But that really isn't so, so I'd have to say nobody. As if it's any of your business," she added quite grumpily. He cocked his head, and turned to face her.

"What happened to this James fellow?" he murmured, relaxing a tad, his hand falling and curving around her stomach to the underside of her hip.

"He was here tonight. That's why I wanted to come in here," she answered. He closed his eyes, falling over gently.

"Is it possible that I saw him?"

She sniffed distastefully.

"He had some black haired girl with him. Probably a new girlfriend," she answered mournfully.

Draco's eyes moved beneath his eyelids, jerking in his thoughts.

"Was this fellow blonde?" he asked, his voice squeaking despite his best efforts.

Ginny's breath shot through her. He could feel it beneath his fingertips, the gentle rise and fall of her veins as it continued to course through them.

"How did you know?" she breathed. He sighed.

"That ebony headed girl was a lay of mine, I think, if you should call her that. I was supposed to marry her once, but she married before we could strike anything final. Her husband takes these long trips, and she used to start coming to my house for "company". It became a weekly thing, and I was supposed to go see her tonight. But it seems she's found a new person to keep her company."

Ginny was still, her breathing was steady. He thought she'd fallen asleep, when she said,

"I'm sorry."

He shook his head, knowing she couldn't see it.

"Don't be. It's not like it was a big deal, right? So they both found someone new. We can do better, I think," he smiled.

She yawned, a bit of sadness leaking out.

"Oh, Draco, I don't think I want to play tonight anymore."

His hand rubbed her stomach.

"I never said you had to. And neither did you. Do you think your band could do by themselves? We should leave anyway. Caused enough damage, you know?" he murmured, his head and body falling and wrapping around her. Her breathing was slow, and she gave no reaction. Why was it that they could be so comfortable like this, and still be so cold normally?

"We'll leave, in just a few more minutes," she sighed. He nodded and closed his eyes.

"_I don't care, as long as I'm near you."___

The thoughts escaped before he could stop them, and sleep took him over before she could react.

* * *

**Hey! Yup, 2nd chapter. Review? **


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